25
I’ve taken a writing hiatus. Not by choice, more so by the reality of life and the rhythms established within the last 7 months. I’ve had so many moments where I’d think, ‘I should write a blog about this’ or ‘Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve last written..maybe I should pick that up again’ but the ‘should’ never became more than that. Should do this, should do that, actually do nothing.
Today I turn 25. Not by choice, but by the reality of time and each hour God has sustained me on this earth. I had another moment of thinking, ‘I should write a blog’ and rather than dwell on exactly what to write I started writing (progress!).
In reflection on this past year of my life, though so little was documented by blog, I found that a lot had happened. I said goodbyes and hellos. I said goodbye to my LifeGroup, my role as an Account Executive at IW Group, and on a deeper-level my complacency in my emotional maturity. I said hello to Sabbath rest Sundays, weekly phone calls with friends, and therapy.
In an odd sort of way, I feel like 24 was a year of pruning. Or at least, beginning the pruning/realizing the areas in need of cutting away. When I think of 22 and 23, I think about how new everything felt. It was both exhilarating and exhausting. My relationships, ministry, and work all felt like equally significant spheres to learn and grow in. I made mistakes, stretching myself thin and wondering if anything would change. I felt all the big feelings in me while forgetting the safe container of knowing I am deeply loved and cherished regardless of those mistakes.
24 was a year where I had to look into a mirror and see what I didn’t want to see. I always knew I dealt with insecurities. But I never thought to take a look at those areas of my life, more than just a glance. To assess my thought life, asking God to examine my inner world and show me what I avoid seeing. I found myself more compelled by the question ‘why do I do what I do?’ and sat in uncomfortable prayers where space seemed far too great between me and God.
Many nights I sat wondering why I didn’t have the same fervor as before for the Lord. Why I couldn’t even get myself to do consistent devotionals or spend daily time in prayer. I reached the end of a season of passionate pursuit of the Lord and treaded slowly into what felt like the desert. The landscape became familiar, and what excitement I had to sustain my relationship with God was waning.
Yet in that place, I discovered the way of Jesus. I began to listen to and read more content regarding the call for Christians to live as ‘disciples’ or ‘apprentices’ to Jesus. I learned about the acts of solitude, Sabbath, and meditative prayer. I began to take seriously the ways that I was being spiritually ‘formed’ and realized that, actually, where I was was not unfamiliar to the journey with God at all.
I anchored myself to the word intimacy for 2024, intending on knowing the Lord more not just in knowledge but in relationship. This word became the invitation I needed to keep walking in the desert. I sought out quiet places to be alone with God. I felt everything and absolutely nothing while sharing my heart with God in prayer. I began seeing a therapist, and started to unravel the layers of protective measures and niceties that hid infected areas of sin. I became more aware of how much of myself was buried beneath unconfessed guilt, shame, and pride.
In the middle of a therapy session, I said aloud, ‘I know this is who I’m not but..it’s making me wonder, who am I?’
As existential as that sounds, it was a very helpful question for me to ask. It was probably the most honest I’ve ever been with myself. In the safety of my therapist’s office I asked the question I never even let myself get near for fear of spiraling.
Thankfully, I don’t have to navigate answering that question alone. When I finally had the courage to set down the roles I hoped for or thought I should live into, I was left with the breathtakingly empty space of an open door.
And so at 25, I feel I’m just beginning.
